


sunrise

by skatzaa



Series: domestic Kendricks [3]
Category: The Scorpio Races - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Post-The Scorpio Races, Puck POV, Slice of Life, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 14:15:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11315106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skatzaa/pseuds/skatzaa
Summary: One day just past sunrise, when it’s nearly true spring, Sean and I groom the horses together.





	sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr. Part of my loosely related domestic Kendricks series, but it isn't necessary to read any of those in order for this to make sense.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

PUCK

One day just past sunrise, when it’s nearly true spring, Sean and I groom the horses together. 

By which I mean: I stomp into the barn, prepared to deal with Dove, who’s covered head to foot in dried mud from yesterday’s rainstorm, and Sean is already there, currying Corr and speaking in low tones. Corr hardly has any weight on his healed leg but he looks calm despite that, letting the crossties hold up his head like any other lazy horse. He’s not really dirty enough to warrant being brushed, but Dove and I certainly won’t mind the company. 

I stop stomping immediately, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m cross at Dove for getting herself so dirty and tearing up the yard in the process. Sean glances at me, but doesn’t take his attention from the horse before him, for good reason. I carefully don’t stomp my way over to the room where we keep the feed and our gear. The tack box hasn’t done anything to personally offend me recently, but I still bang it around a bit to make myself feel better. 

Dove is already awake in her stall when I go to her. She’s calm as I slip her halter over her ears and clip on the lead rope, but the moment I swing the door open she charged past me and toward the yard. After years of the same dance every morning, I just dig my heels in and wait her out. 

She stops, after a moment, and only flicks her ears once in irritation when I lead her to the second set of crossties. 

Dove tosses her head and the ties clack where they attach to the walls. I tap her nose and she settles, and I pull out my own curry comb to get started. 

The silence of the morning wraps itself around us, and I breathe in another spring we’ve all lived to see. The other horses are out in their fields already, and we don’t have any _capaill_ besides Corr, because Sean still hasn’t decided if he will race on a different horse. It’s been years since the injury, but I don’t push him to a decision, though the very thought of it brings my heart into my throat. Thisby won’t tolerate uncertainty, especially on the beach. 

I sigh and Dove sighs back. Beside us, at a safe enough distance that Sean should be able to intervene before Corr reaches us if he were to get loose, Corr clicks his tongue. It’s a testament to our years together, the four of us, that Dove and I only flinch away for a second. 

The mud is caked deep into her hair, her mane and tail are hopelessly tangled, and for a few horrified minutes I worry I’ll have to give her a _bath_. Dove _hates_ baths and she’s only gotten worse in her old age. It is usually wisdom on an island like Thisby, but a pain when I need to get her clean. I keep at it though, because if there was anything Mum taught me it was to be just as stubborn as my horse, and after a few vigorous passes with the curry comb, she starts to look a little more like the dun I grew up with. 

I move on to using the hard brush and Dove relaxes into it. 

Sean starts talking again, though I don’t know when he stopped, and I let myself be lulled by his voice. I only catch every third word, but that’s not why he speaks, not like this. It’s never been the words that are important to Sean, but the intention behind them. 

Corr’s head is still resting in midair. When I take a moment to watch him, though, I see that his eyes are half-lidded but alert. I believe he would never hurt Sean intentionally, especially not in the spring when the call of the November sea is nothing more than a half-dreamed memory. 

But he is still a monster, no matter how we love him. 

I turn back to Dove and grab the comb to start picking the knots from her tail. I’ll go back over her with Mum’s old soft brush later, but I want to do this while Dove is staying relatively still. 

She blows air out of her nose in a sharp sigh. She wants to be grazing in her little field; I understand, but this has to be done. I blow air back at her, lips flapping at the force of it. 

Sean gives me a look but I ignore him. My own form of little magic isn’t any less effective than Sean’s, even if it’s much less dignified, and only used on horses that aren’t likely to eat me. 

He smiles in my direction and goes back to braiding a pattern I won’t ever understand the significance of into Cor’s mane. 

It’s late morning by the time we finish. Dove looks as good as she’s going to without a bath, but with Finn planning to stop by just past noon there’s no time for that. I turn Dove out with a kiss on the shoulder and return to the barn just in time to watch Sean put Corr back in his double stall. Tomorrow, he’ll be put out in his own field, but for now, he’ll stay inside, because the sight of him makes Finn nervous even still. 

Sean closes the door behind himself and checks the door handle to be sure it’s latched. When he’s satisfied, he crosses the aisle and links his fingers through mine. We watch Corr together and he shakes his head against whatever true magic Sean wove into his braids. 

I feel as though I’m floating on top of a wave, knowing we made it through another November. I’m light and buoyant and made of sea foam. 

Sean tugs on my hand and I curve into him, hiding my smile against his neck. He trails his fingers along the point of my hipbone but doesn’t say anything. 

There’s more to do around the farm because the work never ends, but we allow ourselves this moment. I know there will be more moments like this later today, tomorrow, this weekend, and all the days beyond, and that’s what allows me to let him slip away. 

There will be more moments. 

Thisby favors the brave. I look at Sean as he walks toward the house, probably to wash up, and resolve myself. No matter what Sean decides, in regards to a new _capall_ , I will be brave enough to keep what is mine, to hold onto the happiness Thisby has begrudged us. I brush my fingers across the skin under my naval and look in the direction of the house. 

I will.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated, but never required.
> 
> Read On,  
> Skats


End file.
